


i would be a fool to carry on

by maharlika



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Disordered Eating, M/M, Sibling Incest, figure skater loki, figure skating, hockey player thor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-14
Updated: 2018-06-18
Packaged: 2019-05-23 07:00:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14929437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maharlika/pseuds/maharlika
Summary: The first time Loki ever skated was with Thor’s hand-me-down hockey skates when the cornfield behind their home froze over one winter. He has memories of Thor holding his hands while he wobbled on his brother’s too-big skates, the slow, synchronized glide of their blades as they carefully skated through the stalks of corn. The dead leaves towered over Loki, enclosing him and Thor in their own world.A Figure Skating!Loki AU.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [The_Iron_Dragon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Iron_Dragon/gifts), [zuihitsu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/zuihitsu/gifts).



> Written for Becs and Kerstin. Beta'd by She, A.V. and Lena. [Cuppyren](http://cuppyren.tumblr.com) commissioned art by [vako](http://my-name-is-vako.tumblr.com/) for this fic! Please check it out [here](http://my-name-is-vako.tumblr.com/post/174702293308/for-cuppyren), it is GORGEOUS.

His score flashes on the screen: 238.63. 13th. It’s his worst finish at any competitive skating event.

Loki can hear nothing over the pounding of his heart in his chest. He swallows. Says спасибо, and thank you to the cameras, for the audience. Clutches tight at the snake plushie he’d picked up off the ice. Bows deep. Leaves the Kiss and Cry with shaky, exhausted legs, Valentina’s hand a weight on his shoulder. 

He feels drained. Parched. Stretched thin.

Valentina tells him to get some rest, disappointed and short with it.

He thinks about how he’d hit the ice on that popped quadruple Salchow, how the pit of his stomach had opened and threatened to swallow him whole. And yet he’d skated on. Fell on his Axel-half-Loop-Flip combo. Loki hasn’t fallen in competition since…since his first Olympics, three years ago, when the anxiety had made his entire body shake so bad his skate had skidded on the ice and he’d tripped as soon as he’d entered the rink. His actual skate hadn’t fared much better.

When his roommate goes out to the dinner banquet that evening, his crawls his aching body into the bathtub and calls Thor. 

His brother picks up on the first ring, startling Loki. 

“Hey,” Thor says, sounding distant over the phone. “You okay?”

Loki sniffles, and takes a shuddering breath. 

“Loki?”

Another gasping breath. He clamps down on a whimper and hears Thor whisper, “Baby?”

The waterworks start. Deep, heaving breaths and stuttered, wrenching sobs. Loki’s entire body, lean and primed for the World Figure Skating Championships, shudders with his crying. He babbles at Thor, about how he can’t remember the last time he’s eaten, about his fucked-up feet and fucked-up ankles, and how he can’t walk without his hip flaring in pain. 

His back bows as he curls in on himself. Months and months of putting his body through drills and exercises and depriving himself of food—of sex, because Valentina’s a superstitious witch and Loki will do anything to improve his performance on the ice.

A skater should know how to leave it all on the ice, but Loki has never been very good at getting over himself. His brain latches, overthinks, repeats scenarios in his head over and over again. He’s found that the only way to exorcise his thoughts is to say them out loud.

And Thor, he listens. He always does. Just breathes on the other side and makes soothing noises, but doesn’t interrupt him. After Loki’s done, Thor tells him to shower and get himself dressed, to go to the banquet and have fun with his friends.

Everything in Loki’s body screams for him not to. _Those people aren’t your friends,_ his brain whispers, _and they’re happy you got what you deserve_.

“I don’t want to,” Loki tells Thor, trying to be petulant but mostly sounding tired.

“What do you want?” Thor asks. His voice rumbles like thunder.

“I don’t know,” Loki whispers.

It is a lie. Halfway around the world in Taipei, and all Loki wants is for Thor to hold him. 

\--

When Loki was born, Thor was 4 years old and refused to call his little brother anything other than “baby.”

“ _Loki_ ,” their parents would say, and Thor would shake his head and say, “ _Baby_.”

The nickname stuck. 

The first time Loki ever skated was with Thor’s hand-me-down hockey skates when the cornfield behind their home froze over one winter. He has memories of Thor holding his hands while he wobbled on his brother’s too-big skates, the slow, synchronized glide of their blades as they carefully skated through the stalks of corn. The dead leaves towered over Loki, enclosing him and Thor in their own world.

“I’ve got you, baby,” Thor would say. 

When they got older, Loki would glare at him every time Thor used the nickname in public, until it became a thing uttered only in the barest of whispers, in the special kind of solitude the brothers found only in each other’s company.

And when Loki was older still, he realized why the word made warmth and longing suffuse through his skin, down to his bones. Understood why he would blush, not in embarrassment, but in pleasure, every time Thor called him that name.

For this is his most horrible secret: for as long as he can remember, Loki Odinson has been in love with his older brother.

\--

The thought of going back to the ice fills Loki with equal parts longing and terror. He puts it off for as long as he can, which is two whole days after getting back to America before Valentina starts calling him. He begs off from their morning practice session; he can’t stand to skate with anyone else when he gets like this. After having dealt with his antics all season, she relents with a short, “You practice tonight.”

So Loki goes to the rink at 11 pm.

The first touch of his skates to the ice is always hell. He almost recoils, hands clenched into fists. He closes his eyes and sighs, taking in the pungent, unmistakeable smell of his ancient home rink. 

“You’re fine,” he mutters to himself, pounding his thighs with his fists. “You’re fine, come on.” He jerks his upper body to the left, to the right, feeling the satisfying crack of his spine. 

He pushes off. He skates. The ice starts to feel like it should. His music shuffles from classical to pop to Russian folk. Old competition pieces come up, and Loki lets his body skate with the music, swallowing down old bitterness still on his tongue. He savors every landed jump and gets up after every fall.

At some point in the night, Loki snaps an Instagram of himself skating while holding onto the back of the zamboni.

 _See_ , he wants to caption it, _I’m alive and well, you bastards_. But he leaves it with nothing but a snake emoji and a green heart.

One more kill drill before he and Dave the zamboni guy close up shop. When he was younger, Loki could do eight triple Axels in one minute. It’s hell on his body now; he feels every reverberation of his impact on the ice through his body more deeply than ever. But he feels the self-loathing rearing up, taunting him into pushing his body past its limit.

On his third Axel, he messes up the take-off and knows the moment he’s in the air that he’s going to fall. He ends up sprawling across the ice. It’s not painful, but it knocks the wind right out of him.

The music ends. Before another song can begin, he hears another set of blades hit the ice. 

In a moment, Thor’s face looms over his, haloed by the old, fluorescent lights of the rink.

“What the fuck,” Loki says, blinking. 

“Hey,” Thor says, and ungracefully drops down on the ice beside Loki.

Loki props himself on his elbows on the ice— _fuck it’s cold_ ; he started shedding layers the further he got into practice and now he’s just in a tank top. He wonders if Thor can see his nipples through it, then immediately feels the burn of self-loathing and embarrassment rush to his cheeks.

“What the fuck are you doing here,” Loki says, bewildered.

“Flew out to see you,” Thor says. 

Loki stares. “But. Hockey.”

“The Knights got knocked out of the play-offs,” Thor says.

“You know I don’t pay attention to whatever’s happening in your idiotic sport.”

Thor’s face crinkles when he smiles. He’s always been handsome. Dangerously so. 

Loki swallows. “Are you okay?” he asks Thor. 

“Been better,” Thor says. “Are you okay?”

Loki shrugs. “Better, now. I guess.”

Thor grins. “I missed you too, brother.”

He sits up, grasps the back of Loki’s neck, and presses their foreheads together, moving away too quickly for Loki’s liking. 

“Come on,” Thor says, getting up. He holds a hand out to Loki. “Let’s do some throws. Show Rogers and Carter what’s up.”

The next day, a video of Thor and Loki attempting a throw triple Salchow and a death spiral show up on Instagram. In the video, Loki lands the Salchow with a flourish, but there’s at least ten other videos of Thor throwing him and him falling on his ass. He keeps them safe on his phone and watches them obsessively that night, while Thor sleeps soundly in the guest bedroom down the hall. 

He thinks of Thor’s strong, tall frame behind his back, Thor’s reassuring hands on his narrow waist. How he’d relented to Loki’s wishes to keep doing the throws, because he knows Loki isn’t fragile.

Loki _feels_ fragile, though, staring at himself and his brother on the phone. His heart aches. He hates himself. Hates himself even more when he remembers he hasn’t so much as jerked off in months, not since the season started, and the thought alone is enough to make him go hard. 

He hasn’t been _fucked_ in so long. When the thought of Thor—his brother, god, his beautiful golden brother—shoving him into a bed and spreading his legs open, enters his mind, unbidden, he has to press his face into his pillow to muffle a whine.

His legs tremble as he comes, his heart pounding in his ears. He thinks of Thor’s rough hands on his thighs and his cock twitches. 

“Fuck,” he hisses, and slams his head on the pillow. 

\--

They have to get breakfast out because there isn’t any kind of food in Loki’s apartment that isn’t chicken breasts, lettuce, cheese, vitamin water, and protein bars. Thor had made faces. Loki had flipped him off.

Now, across the table, while Thor helps himself to pancakes and a plate of bacon and Loki delicately eats a bowl of fruit, Loki takes a deep breath and says, “Come with me to Japan.” His heart pounds. He shoves a piece of mango into his mouth and forces himself to chew.

Thor blinks, swallows. “What’s in Japan?”

“Figure skating money. A photoshoot with Japan Vogue. Steve and Peggy are gonna be there. And, well. Me.”

“Okay.”

“Really?”

“Sure, if the people in charge don’t mind,” Thor says, easy. 

Then, “Is that all you’re going to eat?”

Loki rolls his eyes. “Not all of us can afford to eat like a _hockey player_ , Thor.”

“Bullshit,” Thor says, “You don’t eat enough for any kind of athlete, Loki.”

Loki’s hand tightens on his fork. 

“Can we not. Today.”

Thor sighs.

“I’ll eat in Japan,” Loki promises. “You can take care of me if you come along,” he says, voice gone soft.

Thor nods, relenting, then pulls up airline websites on his phone.

His phone rings, once, and he quickly swipes the call away. 

Loki raises an eyebrow. “Who was that?”

Thor squirms, uncomfortable with lying.

“It was dad,” he says, finally. Loki’s fingers twitch. He hasn’t spoken to Odin in years. Estranged would be too nice of a word to describe their relationship.

“Let’s not talk about it,” Thor says quickly. Loki is only too happy to oblige. 

They spend the rest of the breakfast talking about Loki’s programs for the tour. 

“I saw the Creep practice videos on Instagram,” Thor says, “You’re going to be amazing.”

Loki grins. “Japan’s going to love it.”

“You’re doing Carmen too? Choreographed by En Dwi Gast, no less.” There’s a hint of bitterness in Thor’s voice. 

“Yeah, he came over for a few days and I thought...well, we’ve been talking about choreographing a number together and it just felt like the right time.”

“He broke your heart,” Thor mutters. He stabs a piece of pancake and pops it into his mouth, chewing angrily.

“Years ago. At least he invited me to orgies,” Loki says with a smile, just to piss Thor off. 

“I could invite you to orgies,” Thor shoots back, making Loki choke on his water.

“Valentina still has you on that horrible ‘no sex allowed during competition season’ thing?” Thor asks, while Loki coughs.

“I hate you. Don’t even talk to me about it. I’ll be getting some in Japan, don’t you worry about me,” Loki says.

“Is En Dwi going to be there?”

“Will his being there increase or decrease your chances of going?”

“He was a fucking psycho, Loki.”

“Well, how was I supposed to know? Besides, it wasn’t easy dating Olympic Failure Loki Odinson. I don’t blame him for wanting out of that trash fire.”

“I hate when you talk about yourself like that,” Thor says with a frown.

“Deal with it,” Loki says, and throws a grape at him. It hits him on the nose.

“Another!” Thor says, eyes gleaming at the challenge.

“You are so weird,” Loki says, but obliges, tossing another grape.

This one, Thor catches in his mouth. He chews, winks.

 _The nerve of him_ , Loki thinks, and tries not to blush.

\--

On his second day, Thor borrows Loki’s car and comes back bearing groceries. 

“I’m not eating any of that,” Loki says, when Thor starts unpacking the food.

He takes it back later, when Thor, sweaty and radiant, presents him with their mom’s baked lasagna. 

“I hate you,” Loki says, with his mouth full. 

“I put broccoli in it!” Thor says, “It’s healthy!”

“Hate,” Loki says, and goes to get a second serving.

The heart of the matter is that living with Thor is easy, which is difficult for Loki. They spend most of their day at the rink, Loki doing jumps and running through his tour programs, while Thor does burst exercises off to the side. To cool down, they practice throws, relishing in each other’s strength. 

At night, Loki does his skincare routine while Thor makes low-fat popcorn. Then they curl their exhausted bodies up on the couch and flip through TV programs. Sometimes they turn the TV off and play cards, or chess, or board games. 

They spread their long bodies out on Loki’s carpet, their legs in the air, ankles crossed: parallel pieces. 

\--

Two weeks later, they go to Japan. 

When they land in Narita, Loki has the usual small group of dedicated fans waiting for him with bouquets and snake plushies. Kazuko-chan, the head of his fanclub, gives Loki a scrapbook full of pictures from all his events throughout the season. He hugs it to his chest, feeling his throat go thick with emotion.

Thor seems amused next to him while he converses with the girls in slow English. They talk about his time at Worlds, what he’s looking forward to in Japan (Food, Loki says, and the skin-care, waving at his face). He signs various objects and gives short bows to all of them. 

Loki throws up peace signs for the photos, and elbows Thor to do the same. It makes the girls laugh. Loki is thankful to have them, he really is.

\--

Rehearsals start early in the morning, but Thor won’t let him go without breakfast, no matter what Loki says about how he skates better on an empty stomach. His desire to not eat wars against his desire to relent to Thor’s care. In the end, he shovels some eggs into his mouth and tries not to feel too heavy.

The organizers love Loki enough that they’ve let him bring his brother along to the Fantasy on Ice Tour, and they let Thor in on rehearsals too. They post a video of Thor doing a waltz jump, followed by Loki doing a triple Axel, on the official Twitter and Facebook. The caption reads: “Olympic Gold Medalist hockey player Thor Odinson supports brother, Olympian Loki Odinson, at this year’s Fantasy on Ice!”

Thor knows every skater on the tour because he follows figure skating almost religiously. He’s met some of them too, from having gone to Loki’s events: the Americans, Steve and Peggy, World Champion pairs skaters; the singles skaters: Sam, and the 16-year-old prodigy Peter Parker. 

“First American World Champion since Evan Lysacek,” Loki had muttered to Thor when Peter had skated past, entering into a quad Lutz, “And I’m the first American gay headcase since Johnny Weir.” Thor had laughed at that, at least. It’s not very far from the truth. 

(Peter lands the Lutz. Thor claps.)

Thor is thrilled to meet the Wakandans: T’challa and Nakia, World Champion ice dancers; Okoye and W’kabi, pairs skaters; Shuri, T’challa’s younger sister, the latest Ladies Singles World Champion. He brought an extra pair of skates just to get them signed. 

Loki introduces Thor to Natasha and Bucky, Russian singles skaters who Loki has been in competitions with since he was 13. He speaks to them in fluent Russian, leaving Thor to huff and go hang out with Steve.

“Really,” Natasha asks him, “How are you? Worlds was rough.”

Loki shrugs, “The things we do for this sport.”

“And your brother?” Bucky asks.

“Thor helps,” Loki says, looking at where Thor seems to be getting T’challa to teach him how to do twizzles.

“You tell us when he stops, and we’ll do something about it,” Natasha promises.

Loki smiles, and lets her hug him.

\--

That night, Loki and Thor go to dinner with the producers and the organizers of the show and most of the cast members. Peter and Shuri aren’t old enough to drink in Japan, but Thor slips them some beer anyway. Peter spends the rest of the night staring starry-eyed at him, asking about hockey in an awed voice. Thor talks jovially about concussions, and shows him the scar on his forehead from when a blade had nicked him in a scuffle.

They go to karaoke with Natasha and Bucky. It’s a surprisingly good time. Thor takes Loki’s drunk ass back to the hotel and makes him drink some water.

“M’glad you’re here,” Loki slurs, when Thor lowers him onto the bed. 

“Me too,” Thor says, voice quiet in the dark. He shuffles over to his own bed. 

Loki hears him undressing and closes his eyes against the deep longing building in his chest. 

It aches, and it aches, and it aches.

\--

Half the cast is hungover for the show the next day. Loki muddles through the group dance number, which is always fun if people enjoy watching a bunch of mostly singles skaters attempting (and failing) to dance in-sync. 

He debuts his first performance of Creep for this tour, skating to a cover by KD Lang. This is where Loki shines: baring his heart out to a crowd without being restrained by the tight rules that govern competitive figure skating. When he goes out to the middle of the ice in his billowing, tattered skirt, the crowd hushes. 

Loki goes through each element like breathing. A quad Toe Loop to start, and the crowd cheers him on. Spread eagle. Hydroblade. Camel spin into a sit spin. His signature slide cantilever. 

He takes a deep breath, thinks, fuck it, and goes into the triple Axel-half-Loop-triple Flip he’d failed at Worlds. He lands it. The crowd roars. 

Too many times in his life, Loki has been weighed and found wanting. The skate is a tribute to loneliness, to despair, to the desperate need to be loved. 

To yearning for perfection and always falling short. 

He knows Thor is in the crowd, watching him.

Loki ends the program on his knees. 

\--

After his performance, he finds that Thor has somehow charmed his way backstage just as Loki is stripping for another group number. The organizers’ desire to dress up the male skaters as colorful groomsmen baffles him, but he has no choice in the matter. 

Loki is no stranger to nudity—skaters strip and dress wherever they can, for these shows. Still, he blushes when Thor catches him with his turtleneck drawn to his chest, and quickly pulls it up and off. 

“How did you get in here,” Loki hisses, over some Japanese pop ballad. 

“The Japanese aunties are very nice,” Thor says, with a winning smile. 

Loki wobbles on his skates, but finds the wherewithal to roll his eyes.

“You were great out there,” Thor says earnestly. “I wish I could have taken a video. You’re performing that back home, yeah?”

“Yeah, yes, stop being gross.”

“I’m so proud of you, Loki.”

Loki blushes horribly. “Okay, okay, out, go back to your seat.”

“The aunties gave you an edge call on the Flip, though, you should really get that fixed.”

“OUT,” Loki says, to snickers from the other skaters around them.

Natasha holds her hand out for Thor to high-five as he goes. Traitor.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At the shrine, Loki claps his hands twice and bows low, glancing sideways at Thor. 
> 
> _Please_ , he prays, _please_. _Please let me just keep this_.
> 
> Loki and Thor spend a few weeks in Japan.

The Fantasy on Ice Tour has week-long breaks as they move around different cities. Loki and Thor decide not to go home, and find hotels instead, make it an extended vacation. 

In Kanazawa, Loki takes Thor to his favorite shopping haunts, and Thor patiently waits while Loki tries on too-big blouses and pants from the ladies sections. They go to Kanazawa Castle and Kenroku-en, where Thor takes Loki’s pictures beside the tranquil ponds.

“Perfect for a swan,” Thor teases, and Loki uses that to caption his Instagram post.

It’s peaceful here, in the sprawling Japanese gardens, where the abundance of plants makes it feel like the world is exhaling. Loki takes several deep breaths, for extra measure.

They take a day-trip out to Kyoto and visit Arashiyama for the bamboo forest. The crickets in the grove are loud and incessant, and only half an hour later, rain starts to pour: a summer storm. He and Thor huddle under an umbrella, Thor’s arm around his waist to keep him close.

When they were younger, Thor had wanted to be a botanist. He would spend hours in the garden with their mother, hands caked with soil while he planted radishes, turnips, tulips. 

Anything that had roots and leaves, Thor adored. Loki imagines himself as a bamboo, growing tall and flexible, green and alive, nourished by Thor’s love. Plants cannot be wrong, or right, or impure. They can only grow. 

They walk to a soba place with soggy shoes, and their knees bump under the table when they both bend down to blow at their soup. Loki eats everything in his bowl, lines up the tails of tempura in a neat row to show Thor.

Thor beams. 

At a convenience store, they buy Hello Kitty socks to change out of their wet ones. Thor stocks up on instant noodles. Loki stocks up on melon pan. 

That afternoon, at Fushimi Inari Taisha, they wash their hands in the cold water and Loki thinks of how grateful he is to have this. He flicks water into Thor’s face, watches his brother lick the moisture off his lips. 

At the shrine, Loki claps his hands twice and bows low, glancing sideways at Thor. 

_Please_ , he prays, _please_. _Please let me just keep this_.

\--

In one show, Loki’s necklace breaks apart in the middle of a scratch spin, and his medallions go flying across the ice in the dark. Embarrassingly, they have to spend thirty minutes collecting every single medallion to make sure no one skids on one and breaks their ankle. 

In all his superstition, Loki can’t sleep that night, clutching his heavy necklace to his chest and sitting by the window, staring at the city below. 

“Hey,” Thor says, in the middle of the night, and Loki startles. 

“Go to sleep,” Loki says softly.

“C’mere,” Thor murmurs, scooting over in his own bed.

“It’s not gonna help,” Loki says miserably. He’s been dealing with this anxiety-induced insomnia since he was twelve and decided to make a life out of figure skating. Nothing ever helps, except the exhaustion of a whole night without sleep.

“Let me try,” Thor says, wheedling. 

Loki shouldn’t. It’s a bad idea, he knows it’s a bad idea. 

But he is so, so tired. 

He gets up, toes flexing on the soft carpet, and walks over to Thor’s bed. Slips in, body familiar with the motion. When they were children, nothing would send Loki to sleep faster than the furnace of Thor’s body pressed up against him.

It’s as easy and as difficult as skating, to let himself drift off in Thor’s bed. He feels his eyes fluttering shut as Thor’s large, warm palms sweep down his back.

\--

Self-loathing rears its ugly head, as it is wont to do. 

Ever since he’d crawled into Thor’s bed, he’s made sure to keep a measure of distance between them. Stupid, stupid, impulsive decisions. Loki would rather stay up every single night of this tour than allow himself to give into his worst desires like that again. It had been too much—too close to the disgusting _want_ that runs riot in Loki’s chest at the thought of his brother. 

This was a bad idea; this whole thing was a self-indulgent whim and Loki never should have asked Thor to come with him. Loki has to remind himself that sick, disgusting people like him don’t deserve good things. And Thor isn’t just a good thing. He’s the best thing in Loki’s life. 

And Loki was willing to risk that for a chance to cuddle him in a dark hotel room. 

Thor, if he notices anything wrong, doesn’t say anything. He watches Loki not eat at breakfast and only sighs. He doesn’t go backstage anymore, but at the end of every show he’s there with a flower crown to hand to Loki from the audience. Loki takes it with a weak smile and gives it to one of the younger skaters every night.

On their last day in Kobe, Thor, armed with his phone and Google Maps, asks Loki to go out with him. 

Loki balks at the offer while his heart picks up its pace.

Thor looks so forlorn, this god of a man with the saddest blue eyes, so that Loki can only sigh and relent. 

Thor takes him to the harbor. They pass by colorful food vendors, and Loki nods when Thor points to takoyaki and soft serve ice cream. He eats, knowing it’ll make Thor happy, even as the food settles like lead in his stomach.

By the water, Thor takes a deep breath and asks, in a soft voice, “Have I done something wrong?”

“No,” Loki says, too fast. He takes a deep breath.

“No,” he says again, “I’m just. Tired, you know?”

He _is_ tired, and aching, something that goes deeper than the exhaustion in his bones that never lets up. The sun is starting to set, and Loki could almost cry at the broken expression on Thor’s face, the way the sun melts into him and makes him glow, as if lit up from the inside out.

“You’ll tell me if I’ve done something wrong?”

“I will. I swear.”

 _Let it go_ , Loki begs in his head.

“Okay,” Thor sighs. “Sorry. I’ve been worried.”

“Yeah,” Loki says. “I’ve been an ass. Sorry.”

Thor opens his arms for a hug, and Loki, drawn helplessly towards him, lets himself be folded into those strong arms. 

The sun sets over them, warm and golden. 

When Thor lets go, Loki tells his riotous heart, _Hush, now. You’ll take what you can get_.

\--

In Makuhari, Loki downgrades his quadruple Toe Loop to a triple, because his hip is giving him problems.

After the show, Loki limps back to the room and flops down on the bed, exhausted. Every muscle in his body feels pinched, and he can barely turn his head without getting twinges down his spine. He can barely feel his feet. 

“Did you sprain something?” Thor asks, trying not to hover, and failing.

“Nah, it’s just the old hip. You know how it goes.”

“My 23-year-old brother’s old-man hips,” Thor laughs. 

Bucky comes in later with what seem to be wet cabbage leaves in a ziploc, and Thor watches in fascination and no small amount of confusion when he and Loki start wrapping them around his swollen ankles. 

“Old Russian remedy,” is all Bucky says. 

The next morning, Loki stares up at the ceiling, still in bed while Thor gets ready.

“What are you doing?” Thor asks, as Loki starts inching his body towards the edge of the bed, scooting sideways.

“Maybe if I don’t move yet, my hip will turn out fine,” Loki says. 

He carefully swings his legs over the side of the bed and whines. 

“Okay. No, fuck.”

“Aww, baby,” Thor says, crooning. “You want me to carry you downstairs?”

 _God_ , Loki thinks, _Yes please_.

“Fuck you,” he says instead, and groans.

\--

In a local market one day, Thor examines Japanese peonies while Loki buys them a carton of fresh strawberries, ripe and bursting red. 

“What’s it like, out in the desert?” Loki asks Thor, when they take a seat on one of the benches, the carton of strawberries perched on Loki’s lap. In truth, he worries. He worries about Thor being away from green, growing things. Worries about him not having rain to look forward to. 

“It’s not as bad as I expected,” Thor says, “The stars out there are beautiful.”

“In Las Vegas,” Loki says drily. “The home of light pollution.”

Thor huffs a laugh. He picks up a strawberry, neatly pulls out its green cap of leaves and examines it, feeling it between his fingers. “You’d have to drive out in the middle of the desert, but it’s worth it. You should come by sometime.”

“I don’t have the time,” Loki sighs.

“I know. I do miss you, you know. When you’re not around.”

 _The song isn’t about you and me_ , Loki wants to protest, but he can’t find it in him to lie. Not about this.

“Yeah. I’ll try to visit. Valentina can kick my ass if she wants.”

Thor nudges their shoulders together, and Loki leans into it, closing his eyes for a brief moment.

\--

Things between them have been good. Loki has been good. He’s eating and skating well, and in the last show he’d even joined the quad battle and landed a Salchow. On the tour’s off-days, they wander the streets and eat what they want, knowing the walking will melt it all away. In the break between show dates, they spend a week in Niigata, exploring beaches. 

Loki wears his Speedo and spreads out a towel on the sand, but Thor has other ideas. 

“I will _crush_ your head with my thighs,” Loki screeches, when Thor hauls him up and over his shoulder, and runs into the water. 

“Augh,” Thor replies eloquently, as Loki squirms and struggles. When Loki twists and bites Thor’s shoulder, hard, Thor dumps him into the salty water. 

Loki rises, fully ready to choke his brother. He’ll smother Thor with his crotch if he has to, to exact his revenge. 

A big wave sends them both going down, and Loki declares his revenge a lost cause. Instead, he clings to Thor’s back while Thor does laps, like they used to do when they were children. 

In the evening, they take turns slathering aloe on each other and complaining about sand in weird places.

They go to Sado Island and gorge themselves on seafood, and go pear-picking at the Shirone orchard. Every night there’s a fireworks festival by the water, and Loki will never tire of seeing the colors reflected on Thor’s face. Loki’s pale body freckles under the Japanese sun, and Thor warms into a beautiful toasty tan. 

Every night they tuck themselves into separate beds, and Loki tries to convince himself that he is lucky to have even this. He can feel his heart go tight with selfishness. He feels covetous, wants Thor all to himself.

Their days in Japan dwindle down.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “There’s something,” and here Loki chokes, squeezing his eyes shut. “There’s something wrong with me.”
> 
> “Baby,” Thor says, voice terrified. He stands up, takes a step towards Loki, and Loki scrambles backwards. He’s shaking, he realizes, and the trembles go through his entire body.
> 
> “Don’t—don’t call me that.”
> 
> Thor blanches. The silence in the room is fraught. 
> 
> “Loki,” Thor whispers, exhausted with worry, “Please tell me what’s wrong.”

On the first day of the tour in Shizuoka, Loki wakes up to find Thor sitting on the side of his bed facing him, hands curled up into fists on his thighs. His shoulders are heaving.

“What’s wrong?” Loki asks, still groggy. He pushes his aching body up into a sitting position.

“It’s nothing,” Thor says.

“Tell me,” Loki demands. He shuffles out of bed and stands in front of Thor. He presses his hands to Thor’s shoulders, then cups Thor’s face, so beloved.

Thor reaches a hand up, and Loki thinks he’s going to be pushed away, but Thor only holds on to Loki’s wrist and presses into his palm with a sigh.

“It was Dad.” 

“What did he want,” Loki asks, voice thin and brittle. 

Thor laughs without humor. “Says I should be back home, in the rink, training for the season. That—that there’s no fixing my—you. That I shouldn’t waste my time. It’s utter bullshit.”

Loki blanches, hands falling from Thor’s face. He takes a step backwards, crossing his arms.

“Loki?”

“Maybe he’s right,” Loki whispers. 

“He’s not,” Thor bites out. 

A phone rings, loud and clear in the tense silence of the room. It’s Loki’s.

“That’s Valentina. I have to answer it,” he says, turning away. He swipes his phone off the side table.

“Loki,” Thor says, standing up.

“It’s fine, Thor. Just let it go, please. I have to answer this,” he says, voice small, pleading, phone clenched tight in his hand.

Thor hesitates. Loki’s expression shutters, shoulder dropping.

He turns his back to Thor and answers his wailing phone with a short “Да?”

Thor strides past him, frustrated, and slams the door behind him.

\--

Loki barely remembers hitting the wall during his skate, just realizes there’s been an impact when he goes sprawling. 

Backstage, his hands tremble around a bottle of water, and when Peter asks him if he’s all right, hand stretched out, he hisses, “Don’t fucking touch me.”

He immediately regrets it, but there’s no taking it back. 

He goes through the motions for the rest of his skates, his head pounding.

 _Wretched, fucked-up mess_ , his brain hisses, over and over again. 

\--

Back in the hotel room, Thor is radiating with tension. Once the door is shut behind them, he starts with, “Loki.”

Loki stumbles, putting some distance between them.

He turns his back to Thor, slowly wraps his arms around himself, and hugs himself, tight, tighter. 

“There’s something,” and here Loki chokes, squeezing his eyes shut. “There’s something wrong with me.”

“Baby,” Thor says, voice terrified. He stands up, takes a step towards Loki, and Loki scrambles backwards. He’s shaking, he realizes, and the trembles go through his entire body.

“Don’t—don’t call me that.”

Thor blanches. The silence in the room is fraught. 

“Loki,” Thor whispers, exhausted with worry, “Please tell me what’s wrong.”

The answer, when it comes, is so clear that Loki wonders how he could have missed it. 

_There really is no fixing this_ , Loki realizes. _You were bound to lose him anyway. A year, five years, ten. He’ll find a life without you in it and he’ll be happier for it._

“Odin was right,” Loki says, fighting to keep his voice steady. “There’s no...fixing me. I’m more fucked up than you could know, Thor.”

“That’s bullshit. That’s _bullshit_ , Loki.”

_You never deserved his love, but you had it. And now it’s time to let it go._

“I’m in love with you,” Loki says softly, tears starting to blur his vision. 

Then, again, more clearly:

“I’m in love with you, Thor.”

Silence. 

Loki’s eyes are shut so tight they hurt. His arms go tighter around himself, his heart pounding in his chest. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, “I’m so, so sorry.”

He takes a horrible, gasping breath and sobs, chest heaving. He’s shaking his head and crying, trying to draw breath and finding that he can’t. His knees give out under him and he whimpers as he falls to the bed.

 _Don’t_ , he thinks hysterically, _think—don’t—panic—attack—_

“Loki,” Thor is saying, “Loki, baby, fuck.” 

He takes Loki in his arms and holds him tight, keeping Loki embraced even as Loki fights to get away, twisting and writhing in his grip. 

He doesn’t let go, no matter how hard Loki tries.

“Thor,” Loki sobs finally, body going limp, “Thor, Thor.”

“I’m right here, baby, shh, it’s okay. It’ll be okay, I promise. It’s going to be okay.”

“Can’t,” Loki sobs. “Thor. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

“I forgive you, baby, it’s okay. It’s okay, I promise.”

“No,” Loki sobs. Thor doesn’t understand. Why doesn’t Thor understand?

“Loki, baby, will you look at me, please?”

Loki shakes his head, the motion violent. 

“Please,” he begs, wanting to scream, wanting to claw his skin off his body, “Y-you can hate m-me, o-or be d-disgusted b-but please don’t stop being my brother.” He covers his face with shaking hands and shudders all over. 

“Baby,” Thor says, closing his hands over Loki’s.

“I love no one else the way I love you, Loki. You must know that,” Thor says, soft and gentle.

He presses a kiss to Loki’s hair, then to the side of his face, his ear, his jaw. Carefully, his hands pry Loki’s shaking hands from his face. He kisses Loki’s eyelids, then his nose, his cheeks. The corner of his mouth. His lips.

“N-no,” Loki whimpers. “You, you can’t.”

“And why not, brother?” Thor asks. He rubs his nose against Loki’s, then pecks his mouth again.

“I love you, baby. I’m in love with you. It’s okay. I promise.”

Loki presses his face to Thor’s chest and shakes, and shakes, and shakes.

Throughout it, Thor holds him, strong and steady, the safest harbor Loki has ever known. 

\--

After Loki has cried himself out, he stays curled up in Thor’s arms, too tired to even think, let alone move. Thor lays them gently down on the bed, stroking Loki’s face and brushing away strands of hair that have stuck to his cheeks. 

Loki has his hands pressed to Thor’s chest, fingers clenched in the soft material of his shirt. He turns his face up for Thor’s kisses, like a flower welcoming the sun. It is an action that requires no thought. A reflex, to let Thor press his lips to Loki’s skin. 

Thor’s lips are gentle, and his thumb strokes a line from Loki’s cheekbone to the delicate curve of his ear. His other hand is on Loki’s hip, a warm brand right where it aches. 

Loki opens his eyes to take in Thor’s face, and is met with a wave of devotion from his brother. 

Loki’s face crumples.

“Baby?” Thor asks. He kisses Loki’s mouth, as if to reassure him.

“I don’t understand,” Loki chokes out.

“What don’t you understand?” Thor asks, patiently.

“You...love me? As—as more than—?”

“I do,” Thor says, and the relief that suffuses Loki’s bones is better than any medal he’s ever won. 

“I always have,” Thor continues, “Always will. I should have told you. You didn’t need to feel so alone.”

“It’s a terrifying thing,” Loki whispers. “I hated myself so much, for so long. And you—you must have felt the same. It’s not something I ever would have wished on anyone.”

Thor holds him close, and shudders. Loki feels his brother trembling, crying, and winds his arms around Thor’s back, clutching at him.

“I never. I never want you to feel that scared again,” Thor sobs softly, voice halting. 

“I wanted to drive you away,” Loki whispers, hands in Thor’s hair. “I thought...I used to think, if I could have a part of you, any part, no matter how small, it would be enough. But it wasn’t. I either had to have you or lose you entirely. And I knew I could never have you. That I didn’t _deserve_ you.” 

“That—that you would,” here Loki’s voice hitches, and breaks, “Be better without—without me.”

“Never,” Thor says, fiercely, shoring Loki up in his arms, holding him impossibly close. “Never, Loki. Never.”

“What are we going to _do_ ,” Loki whispers, “This is...this is _incest_ Thor.”

“I don’t know,” Thor admits, “But this is better, right? Better than before, than not knowing?”

“Yes,” Loki admits readily. “So much better. I can fucking breathe, now.” 

Thor laughs, the sound wet and rough, but relieved. “Then we’ll figure it out, baby. We’ll work on it. I love you.”

Loki’s eyes immediately water. He sniffles, burying a whine in Thor’s chest.

“I love you too,” he says.

\--

Before his next performance of Creep, Thor visits him again backstage. In his hands he holds a pair of blood-red gloves. A color Thor favors, Loki knows. 

“For you,” Thor says.

“Thor,” Loki breathes. “These are perfect.”

“I know,” Thor says, “For my perfect little brother.” He kisses Loki’s cheek, and folds the gloves into Loki’s hands. 

On his way out, Thor ruffles Peter’s hair.

Peter turns to Loki with a smile, and Loki smiles back. 

His hands clench around the gloves.

They fit perfectly.

\--

As soon as the hotel room door closes behind them, Thor has Loki up in his arms against the door, licking into his mouth. 

“Thor—mmffuck,” Loki swears, gasping as Thor bites a trail down his neck. He wraps his legs around Thor’s waist, desperate and out of his mind with it. 

Thor’s hands flex on Loki’s ass as he pushes him into the door. 

“Get your shirt up, baby,” he growls, and Loki hurries to obey. As soon as Loki gets his shirt over his chest, Thor’s head bends down to suck at Loki’s nipple. 

Loki gives up on taking his shirt off—he shoves the hem between his teeth and muffles a whine against the cloth. His hands wrap around Thor’s head and he could sob with how good it feels to have his brother’s mouth on him.

“Okay, baby, on the bed, now,” Thor mumbles, and Loki hums happily as Thor lifts him and sets him on the bed, gentle. His gentle giant of a brother. 

“Shirt off,” Thor says, taking the cloth from between Loki’s teeth and stripping him. 

He slides a leg between Loki’s thighs and Loki shivers, hands scrabbling on the bed sheets.

“Thor,” Loki sobs, “Fuck, it’s been, it’s been so long, I need, please.”

“I know, baby, shhh, I’ve got you.”

“Please, please, please,” Loki whispers, letting his legs fall open and humping up against the thick meat of Thor’s thigh. 

“Look at you,” Thor rumbles, “You could come just like this, couldn’t you?” He bends down and takes a nipple into his mouth, scraping the sensitive nub with his teeth while a calloused thumb rubs at the other one. 

“Ahh—ahh—nnn,” Loki whines, wrapping his legs around Thor’s thigh, rubbing up into rough denim. The friction feels incredible, and Loki can’t _stop_ , couldn’t stop if he tried.

“Come for me, baby,” Thor orders, and Loki throws his head back and does just that, humping faster and faster as he comes in his tights. Grinding _harder, harder_ , until he reaches his peak.

His legs twitch with the force of his orgasm, and he shivers when Thor laughs and says, “Needed that, didn’t you?”

“ _Hah_ ,” Loki gasps, “ _hahhh, fuck_ ,” swallowed down by Thor kissing him deeply. 

Loki squirms out of his tights while Thor cups his jaw with one large hand and sucks on his tongue with determination. 

“Baby,” Thor breathes, pulling away to marvel at Loki, spread out on the bed for him. “Look at you,” he murmurs, dragging a hand down Loki’s abs.

“You like it?” Loki asks, blushing. 

“Love it,” Thor says, “Love you, baby.”

Loki whimpers, pulling Thor down for another kiss while Thor’s hands roam over his body. 

He spreads his legs wide and guides Thor’s hand to his hole. Thor pets him there, rubs a thumb against his pucker and sighs into his mouth. 

Thor’s hand rubs down the inside of Loki’s thigh, making him twitch and moan, and comes to rest in the crook of his knee. He pushes Loki’s knee up to his chest, easily, exposing him. 

“I’m gonna eat you out, baby, can you keep yourself spread open for me?”

“ _Fuck_ , oh, fuck, Thor, please,” Loki whines, hands shaking as he draws his knees up his chest. 

“Keep ‘em right there,” Thor says, stretching up for a kiss to Loki’s flushed cheek before he shimmies back down. 

Loki tries to focus his eyes on the ceiling, but the first touch of Thor’s tongue to his hole makes him arch his back and squeeze his eyes shut, mouth open and panting. 

“ _Hah, please, oh God, please Thor_ ,” he breathes, as Thor leisurely runs his tongue in long strokes from his hole to his balls and back. 

“Tell me what you want, baby,” Thor says, and Loki keens.

“Want—your tongue to—to fuck me, brother, please.” Just like that, he’s hard again, can feel himself leaking all over his stomach. 

“Dirty little thing,” Thor laughs, then his tongue is pushing past muscle and fucking into Loki’s rim. 

“ _Mmm_ —!” Loki’s grip on his legs is getting shaky, and he can only toss his head and sob as Thor slides a finger into his hole, fucking him with that one digit. 

“Been a while, hasn’t it?” Thor asks, amusement in his voice at Loki’s obvious need. He fucks another finger in alongside the first one and Loki arches his back with a whine, grinding down. 

Thor leans up and sucks the head of Loki’s cock in his mouth while fucking him with two fingers. 

When he scissors his fingers, Loki gasps and says, “G-gonna co-come—fuck—” and whines when Thor lets his cock fall from his lips.

“Not yet, baby,” Thor says. He draws his fingers away, cleaning them off on Loki’s thigh. 

“Be good and keep yourself spread for me,” he tells Loki, and Loki can only blush and obey, watching Thor as he gets off the bed and starts rummaging in Loki’s bag. 

Thor’s still fully dressed, and looks like he could walk out the room at any time, while Loki has his hole fucked open and exposed on the bed, completely naked and leaking precome onto his stomach. The thought of it all makes Loki’s cock twitch, and he bites his lip to stop from whimpering out loud. 

“You have lube, baby?”

“I-in the blue bag, with the toothpaste,” Loki replies.

“Expected to get fucked?” Thor asks.

“ _Thor_ ,” Loki whines.

“Tell me, baby, who’s been fucking you on these tours, hmm?” Thor gets back on the bed, waving the bottle of lube at him. 

“Not getting my cock unless you tell me, babe,” Thor says, clicking the bottle open and sliding two slick fingers back into Loki’s ass with no hesitation.

“ _Ahhh_ ,” Loki moans, clenching around his brother’s fingers. Thor uses a hand to keep Loki’s ass open, and fucks him gently, slowly, dragging his fingers in and out of Loki.

“Time to talk, baby,” Thor teases. “Who’s been fucking this needy ass, hm?” He slaps Loki’s ass for punctuation. 

Loki shakes his head, eyes clenched tight, “ _F—fffuck_ —I—the—S-Steve, a—a couple times, l-last year— _oh_ —oh fuck, Thor.”

“A-and En Dwi w-was on the tour, a-and he—”

Thor wraps a hand around Loki’s cock and starts stroking him off, pumping his hand and rubbing a thumb on the slick head of Loki’s cock. 

“What did he do, baby?”

“F-fucked me, he fucked me, a-and brought o-other men and I-I sucked them off— _fffuck fuck fuck_.” Thor slides in a third finger and stretches them inside Loki’s ass, which sends his baby brother sobbing.

“Would you let him fuck you again, baby?”

Loki shakes his head violently, “No! No, no, please Thor, just you, just want—just want you.”

“I know baby, I know, shh.”

“Please,” Loki sobs, “Please.”

“Shhh,” Thor says, sliding his fingers out of Loki’s ass. He bends down to suckle at the head of Loki’s cock again, playing with the slit, before he backs off and starts shucking off his pants. 

“I wanna—” Loki starts, and at Thor’s nod, he lets go of his legs, and gracefully goes up on his knees, pressing his face into Thor’s crotch. His cock bobs between his legs, slapping at his stomach. 

“Needy little thing,” Thor hums when Loki sucks at his cock through fabric, then reverently takes Thor’s cock out of his boxers and sucks at the head, closing his eyes in pleasure. Thor moans softly at the sight of his brother between his legs, body trembling with obvious need.

Thor allows Loki to suckle at him for a few moments before he pushes at Loki’s chest gently. 

“Back on the bed, baby,” Thor smiles.

“Gonna get fucked,” Loki hums.

“Sure will,” Thor laughs. “You wanna go on top?”

“Oh, fuck, yes, please,” Loki babbles. 

Thor strips out of the rest of his clothes and lays down on the bed, helping Loki to straddle him. 

Looking down at Thor, Loki bends down to kiss him, sighing when Thor’s hands spread his ass open, and Thor fucks his cock between Loki’s cheeks, letting him feel how hot and heavy he is, how much he wants him.

Thor guides his cock slowly into Loki’s ass and Loki moans, shivering, hands clenching on Thor’s chest. Loki pulls up, flushed, and cups Thor’s face. He clenches around Thor’s cock and they both moan.

“Are we,” Loki swallows, “Should we really be—?”

“What’s wrong baby?” Thor asks, bouncing Loki gently. More than a decade of hockey has given him thighs strong enough to fuck Loki while he sits on Thor’s cock, shaking and overwhelmed. 

“Th-this is, it’s, we’re,” Loki chokes out. 

Thor cups Loki’s face and kisses him, deep and slow, swallowing down a whine from his brother. 

In one fluid motion, he flips them over and pushes Loki’s legs up to his chest, grinding his cock so hard into Loki’s ass so that Loki is scrabbling for the sheets with his hands thrown above his head.

“ _Ah! Ahh, Thor, Thor_.”

“Does this _feel_ wrong, baby,” Thor asks, fucking Loki in smooth, undulating motions. He pulls out until only the tip of his cock is stretching Loki’s rim open, and then fucks him to the root, over and over again until Loki is covering his mouth to muffle his sobbing moans.

“Tell me how you really feel, baby,” Thor says, bending down to take Loki’s ear in his mouth and sucking it, licking around the seashell rim. 

He grabs Loki’s hands and pins them above his arms, leaving Loki to twist in his grip, but there is no give. There is only Thor above him, Thor stretching him open, Thor’s thighs holding him open, Thor’s cock fucking his ass. 

Loki sobs, shuddering, feeling fucked open and laid bare, vulnerable. When Thor grinds his thick, fat cock into him, he clenches and moans, “ _Brother_.”

“ _Brother_ ,” Thor responds with a growl.

My _brother_ is fucking me, _Thor_ is fucking me, Loki thinks, tears beading in the corners of his eyes, streaming down his cheeks. Thor fucks into him, and the sensation of being full is enough. Loki comes. 

Thor seems to lose all control after that, holding onto Loki’s ankles and bending Loki in half while Loki stares dazedly at the ceiling, petting Thor’s hair. 

Loki sighs happily when Thor comes in his ass, pumping him full of come. 

“Brother,” Thor sighs, pressing his face into Loki’s neck.

“Mmm, brother,” Loki sighs back, carding a hand through Thor’s hair. 

“Needed that,” Loki laughs, and can’t stop laughing. 

Thor laughs along with him, pressing kisses to his neck, his cheeks. 

“I love you,” Thor says, smiling at him.

“Love you too,” Loki says. “Now, snuggles, please.”

“There is no way you’re gonna be able to stick to Valentina’s no-sex rule when the season starts,” Thor laughs.

“Oh shit,” Loki groans, “She’s gonna murder me.”

“I’ll protect you,” Thor says, muffled because he’s gnawing on Loki’s shoulder.

Loki slaps Thor on the shoulder, “You animal. Stop trying to eat me.”

“You have the best shoulders,” Thor says sleepily. “Have I ever told you that?”

“No,” Loki says, blushing. “You’re sex-addled, you weirdo.”

“And the best thighs,” Thor says, “And the best butt. You’re so hot, baby.”

“I _cannot_ get it up again, Thor.”

“We’ll see about that,” Thor laughs. He slaps at Loki’s hip. 

“On your belly, baby.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Loki says, but obeys.

What follows is the most amazing massage Loki has ever had. Thor pulls out all the stops, using his large, strong hands and arms to soothe the kinks in Loki’s back, his shoulders, his hips, the back of his legs, and his feet. 

“ _Mmmfff_ ,” Loki says, into the pillow.

Thor nuzzles kisses into the back of his neck. 

“You’re my favorite brother,” Loki mumbles sleepily, when Thor is done.

“I’m your only brother,” Thor laughs.

“And my favorite,” Loki says.

“Go to sleep, baby.”

“Mmkay. Cuddles?”

Loki sighs happily when he feels Thor’s arms settling around him from behind.

“My favorite brother,” he says again, drifting off into sleep.

\--

The last show of the tour, the organizers invite Thor to the ice for the encore, and Loki skates up to him with a confused expression. 

“Thor? What—”

“Let’s do the throw Axel,” Thor says over the music, grinning.

“You’re crazy,” Loki says, shaking his head.

“Be crazy with me,” Thor says.

“Fuck,” Loki laughs. “Okay. Fuck. Okay.”

They both go out into the middle of the ice, the skaters carving out a space for them.

“Trust me?” Thor asks.

“Always,” Loki breathes. He starts skating backwards, his and Thor’s hands linked between them.

Thor meets Loki’s eyes. He winks. Skates to his side, wrapping an arm around his waist.

Loki breathes.

Thor throws him.

And Loki—flies.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is finished, just going through edits. Chapters will go up soon. Catch me on twitter @sendaraven, or on tumblr @ adaringdrinkerofdreams.


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